


I Remember the Way I Would Wait For You

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Minor Bellamy Blake/Echo, Missing Scene, Season/Series 05 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 09:28:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14691284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: “So, you got a beard.”He rubs his jaw, like he’s reminding himself it's there too. “Yeah, that’s what Madi said.She didn’t draw you with a beard.”





	I Remember the Way I Would Wait For You

**Author's Note:**

> Per the tags, this fic has some discussion of Becho being together. If this is something that will upset you, please don't read, and especially don't tell me your feelings on it. I have so many things blacklisted to avoid this discourse, please do not bring it into my comments. Thanks!

“So, you got a beard.”

It’s not exactly what Clarke was planning to say, but there are people walking by, a steady stream of activity all around, and even if no one seems to be paying much attention to them, it doesn’t feel safe to give too much away.

And it’s hard to regret the question when she’s rewarded with his soft laugh, the duck of his head and an almost-familiar half-smile. Did he ever look this easy when she knew him? Never for more than a few seconds, and now it seems like a part of him, this ready smile. She wishes she could have seen it, could have watched the burden lifting off his shoulders day by day. 

She can’t be sure, but she thinks the years have been almost kind to him. And she knows he deserves the kindness.

He rubs his jaw, like he’s reminding himself the beard is there too. “Yeah, that’s what Madi said. _She didn’t draw you with a beard_.”

Clarke bites the corner of her mouth, fighting another wave of longing. All the times she imagined Madi and Bellamy meeting for the first time, and she didn’t even get to see it.

“How did you find her?”

“She found us. Saved our asses, honestly. Diyoza’s guys were about to start shooting when she took them out.” His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his hand spasms, like he wants to do something with it but can’t decide what. “Fuck, Clarke, when she said you—“

Words fail him, so she picks up the slack. “What did she say?”

“That you said I’d come.”

“And I was right.” It’s not even hard to put her hand on his, to let her fingers rediscover the shape of his bones and the texture of his skin. Over the years, she thought more than once that she should have appreciated him more, when she had him. She should have had more memories, to keep her warm.

But the feel of his hand is so familiar. She might not have been able to call it up, but it was in there, somewhere deep. Somewhere time couldn’t take it.

Just waiting for him.

He flips his hand over to squeeze her hers. “Sorry it took so long.”

“What happened?”

“Not enough fuel. Not enough of anything, honestly. And the radiation took out our communications. Raven was working on it, but—“ He glances around. “Honestly, I don’t know if we could have gotten down without these guys. We stole their fuel.”

“And three-hundred of their people.”

His mouth twists up. “We’re just borrowing them.”

“It was a smart move.” She bites her lip, looking around. "You know this can't last, right? They aren't just going to--"

"It’s a big valley.”

"Probably not big enough for fifteen-hundred people. And they aren't exactly friendly."

He lets go of her hand to touch her neck instead, fingers gentle on the sore skin where the collar left its mark. "No," he agrees. "But after six years, you'd think we'd have something better to do than kill each other. I always--" His voice dies in his throat. "I told myself we would. That we'd do better."

Exhaustion is already bleeding into his features; he's been on the ground for less than a day, and it's already taking its toll. She doesn’t have the heart to argue with him.

"It's not like you could have predicted a whole new ship full of people to fight with," she teases. "No one could have seen that coming."

He leans his head on hers, so warm and close. They should have years for just this, just to breathe the same air again.

"I guess not." He clears his throat. "Murphy and Emori broke up."

"When?"

"About six months ago. He hasn't been doing so well. We were all getting a little stir crazy." 

"What about Harper and Monty?"

"Still good." He shifts a little, and she realizes what he's going to say a second before the words come out. "Me and Echo are--"

He doesn't seem to know how to finish, but he doesn't have to. She’s got it. "I would have guessed you and Raven."

The sound that comes out isn't exactly a laugh, but laughter is probably its closest relative. And he doesn't move away. "Once or twice, at the beginning. There wasn't a lot to do up there. Not that I--that's not why--"

Her smile comes easily, which is nice. She had moments--more moments than she’s willing to admit--where she thought that if he came down, they'd be--something. If he hadn't left, she thinks they would have been. 

But they're still something _now_. Madi told him she needed help, and he came, no questions asked, and got her out, even figured out how to get the bunker open. And he's _here_ , solid against her side, and they're together, like they used to be.

They don't have to be something new. Something old will do.

"So, how bad was the algae?" she asks, and he laughs again.

"How bad are you thinking?"

"I don’t know. I ate a lot of bugs before I got to the valley, algae didn’t sound so bad."

"Okay, but bugs have _texture_."

It's her turn to laugh, burying her face against his side, and she feels him laughing with her.

"One time he tried cooking it, instead of just making it into the soup. We missed chewing, it seemed like a good idea."

"And?"

"I still have nightmares."

"There’s a lot in the valley. Berries, nuts, fish—"

He groans. "My body's not even going to know what to do with real food."

"Did you bring down some algae? Maybe we can ease you into it."

"Don’t even joke about it."

They lapse into silence, and it's not a bad silence, more an unbelievable one. She called him every day for six years and never ran out of things to say, and now he's here, and she doesn't know where to start.

But he's home now, and staying. They don’t need to get everything hope and fear and confession of the way all at once. They can take their time.

"So, I think I should go into the bunker first," he says, like he’s thinking the same thing. Maybe he still is, after all these years. Maybe they're still on the same page.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. No offense, but you didn't exactly leave on the best terms."

He's right, but she had almost forgotten. The Clarke who tried to take the bunker feels like someone from another world, from another life.

"So you go in first?"

"And you follow after, like--a minute or so."

She elbows him. "You just want to hog all the glory."

"You only get so many chances to make a dramatic entrance, Clarke."

"I wouldn't want to deprive you." She worries her lip. "Do you think they made it? I haven't heard anything, what if--"

He squeezes her shoulders. "You're alive," he says, with some awe lingering in his voice. "I'm not counting anyone out."

"Break it up, lovebirds," says McCreary, before she can respond. In the broadest strokes, Clarke agrees with Bellamy, thinks it would be nice if they could make peace. But on a personal level, she is really looking forward to killing McCreary. "You need to come tell us where to drill."

"We're coming," says Bellamy, letting her go and standing. Clarke's still a little shaky, not sure about her legs, but when he offers his hand, she takes it. It's probably the last chance they'll get to be like this for a while, just the two of them, without what feels like the whole world on their shoulders, and she’s treasuring every touch, every second. 

"You good?" he asks. "Ready?"

She lets out a breath, smiles. It's not even difficult. "Yeah. I'm with you."

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously guys don't talk to me about your Becho feelings I'm begging you


End file.
